


Tony vs. The Hammock

by rebelmeg



Series: Rebelmeg's Pepperony Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awesome Pepper Potts, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Hammocks, Humor, Including hammock wrangling, Pregnant Pepper Potts, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25217425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelmeg/pseuds/rebelmeg
Summary: Tony doesn't expect a hammock to be quite this difficult.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Rebelmeg's Pepperony Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664317
Comments: 27
Kudos: 83
Collections: Pepperony Bingo 2020





	Tony vs. The Hammock

**Author's Note:**

> For my Pepperony Bingo square N5 - Watching the sunrise

It had long been a dream of Tony’s. Or, okay, fine, it had been a dream of his for maybe the past week, ever since Rhodey had offhandedly commented that two of the trees between the house and the lake were perfect for a hammock.

So since _then_ it had long been a dream of Tony’s, to laze away an afternoon sipping lemonade and swinging gently in a hammock. It was totally a dad-on-the-weekend thing, right? It happened in the movies and cartoons all the time. And now that he was a dad (or due to be one in approximately four months, and didn’t that just warm every little cockle of his heart), he deserved to have a hammock afternoon, right?

And now, standing back and proudly surveying his hammock installation handiwork, all Tony needed was that glass of lemonade and he’d be ready to do this. Pepper had been kidnapped by her mom and sisters for a girl date, so he had all day long to enjoy this.

He spilled some of the sugar while he was making the lemonade, and might have sworn a few times when he got lemon juice on a few minor scratches on his hands, but none of it mattered. He had his glass of lemonade, complete with a silly straw and a few thin slices of lemon floating amongst the ice, and he was very happy indeed.

Kicking off his shoes, Tony held his lemonade in one hand and steadied the hammock in the other, ready to savor the afternoon as he lowered himself.

However, instead of sinking into the woven hammock, his butt hit the ground with a hard thud, and the glass of lemonade upended all over his front with a slosh.

Blinking, Tony looked over his shoulder. The hammock was swaying, brushing against his head, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what had gone wrong there.

Shivering a little, he flipped the ice cubes and lemon slices off his drenched lap and shirt, noting with a bit of a scowl that the glass was still in his hand.

“Okay. We’ll try that again.”

* * *

After a change of clothes and another visit to the kitchen, Tony was prepared this time. His second glass of lemonade, complete with lemon slices and ice cubes, was now safely trapped in a water bottle with the lid securely tightened, silly straw in his back pocket.

Holding the bottle of lemonade carefully in his hand, he approached the hammock with a little bit more hesitancy this time around. He kinda, sorta remembered Pepper saying something about being careful getting into the hammock, since they could be tricky, but he’d dismissed her warning out of hand because… c’mon. Hammock. Chair made of ropes. It wasn’t that hard.

Maybe he’d been mistaken.

This time, he stepped closer to the hammock, the one side tucked right behind his knees, and he took a firmer grip on it so it didn’t slip out of his hand. Lowering himself carefully, he actually felt the hammock dip under his weight, and he grinned at his success, until the ropes twisted wildly and he found himself being dumped on his face.

And okay, yeah, falling on top of a bottle full of lemonade sucked exactly as much as advertised, thanks.

* * *

He tried another tack the third time, holding the lemonade between his knees so he had both hands available to steady himself and hold the hammock still.  
It went about as well as the first two times had, except this time he actually sat down fully before his feet went up, his head went down, the lemonade went flying, and the hammock swung around, depositing him back in the dirt.

“Just you wait,” he muttered peevishly, getting to his feet again and ignoring the dirt, twigs, and leaves stuck to his pants. “I’ll tame this bucking bronco.”

* * *

Maybe if he tried side-entry…

He got one leg and both buttcheeks on the hammock, took a deep breath to steady himself, then swung the other leg up.

With a gravity defying _flip_ , Tony found himself pitched face-down onto the ground. Again.

“Oh, it’s on. It’s so on.”

* * *

The kitchen chair had admittedly been kind of a stupid idea to begin with, made even worse when not only did the hammock just flip him out once again, but then the chair unbalanced and fell on top of him.

Groaning as he curled up in the fetal position, Tony questioned if the right part of his brain was working when he immediately wondered if a ladder might be the better solution.

* * *

_Remind me to never try a running start again_ , Tony thought to himself as he tried to disentangle his shoe from the edge of the hammock, where it had caught when he hadn’t lifted his leg high enough on the jump. 

Because clearly that idea had been flawed from the get-go.

* * *

Tony had to take a break after he’d tried jumping into it.

Not only because he’d ended up scraping his face through the dirt, but one end of the hammock had pulled free from the tree and he had to figure out how to anchor it better before he attempted anything more.

* * *

Trying a hands-and-knees approach almost worked. But then the damn hammock just flipped over and Tony ended up clinging to it with both hands like a monkey as he dangled underneath, grunting and growling as he tried to right himself without falling on the ground again. 

It was for naught, and his back once again met the ground with a resounding, knock-the-wind-right-out thud.

He glared up at the gently swaying ropes over his head. “I hate you.”

* * *

OMG. He did it. No idea how, but he’d done it.

Tony held stock-still as he sat in the hammock, waiting until the last vibrations of movement ceased thrumming through the ropes.

“Okay,” He muttered to himself, arms outstretched for balance. “Tentative success.” With very slow, very careful movements, he shifted until he had both legs stretched out, then with equal care leaned back.

He had three glorious moments of triumph before his nose started to itch, and with a panicked “NO!” he tried to stifle his sneeze.

Unfortunately, either the sneeze or his preventative flail had upset the delicate balance he’d managed, and a moment later he was back in the dirt again, screaming obscenities to the sky.

* * *

Resorting to using the Iron Man armor to get into the thing was admittedly not his proudest moment, but Tony wasn’t about to regret it.

Watching the sun set as he gently swung in his very firmly suspended hammock was just as awesome as he’d figured it would be. Success had never been so sweet.

Until the mosquitoes started to come out, however, and Tony realized that somewhere in his wiggling around to get himself situated in the hammock… he’d gotten his ankle impossibly tangled and in the gathering darkness he couldn’t manage to get himself loose.

And not only that, but no matter how he wiggled and tugged, the hammock didn’t so much as sway. So being tipped out was clearly a no-go.

Well. Guess he’d have a funny story for Pepper when she got home.

* * *

How he got his ringing phone out of his pocket in the dark without tipping himself out of the hammock, Tony honestly didn’t understand. It had been aggressively against his getting into it before, but now the hammock seemed keen on keeping him. In fact, now that he’d gotten into the thing, he was starting to wonder if he’d ever get out of it again without some kind of outside interference.

“Saaaaave me, Pepper,” he muttered under his breath as he fumbled the phone around to face him, answering the call as he slumped back in the hammock. “Hey, sexy.”

“Hi, honey,” Pepper’s voice was warm and affectionate. “How are you doing?”

“Just peachy keen.” Other than being held hostage by a hammock. “How’s my lovely wife?”

“Potentially being held hostage until morning, actually.”

Tony blinked. “I presume this is the good kind of being held hostage?"

“You presume correctly. There’s a late showing of a movie we all want to see, and it won’t be over until after midnight. I’ll just bunk over with my mom and be back first thing in the morning.”

Tony stifled his brief flare of panic, telling himself that despite his current predicament, he was by no means in any sort of danger. His ankle was stuck, yes, but he was in no pain, and he hadn’t lost any circulation. Just stuck. He was kind of starving, but at least he’d managed to retrieve the long-discarded and kind of grossly warm lemonade, so he wasn’t super dehydrated. Other than being a little chilly and hungry, he was completely fine, and he knew that Pepper didn’t get to hang out with her family as much as she should. He could spend the night out here, no problem. It was a small price to pay for his Pepper to have a good time. “Sounds like fun! You’re feeling okay, baby bun is treating you right?”

“Baby bun is snug in her oven, yes.”

A wave of happiness swept over Tony at the reminder that their little miracle wasn’t just a generic baby anymore, but she was a _girl_. With fingers and toes and a precious little profile that Tony hadn’t been able to stop staring at during Pepper’s last appointment. “Glad to hear it. Have a good time, Pep.”

“I will. Love you.” She blew a kiss through the phone, and Tony couldn’t help but smile as he hung up. Wow, he loved her a lot.

Ignoring the way his new bug bites itched, and the way the breeze from the lake was a little too cold to be comfortable, Tony tucked his phone inside his shirt for safekeeping and settled in for the night.

* * *

“Tony Stark, what on earth are you doing?”

Tony jerked awake at the sound of his wife’s disbelieving voice, feeling several warm weights disappear from on and around him with a fluttering sound. Blinking blearily in the peachy-pink light of dawn, he looked up. “Pep? You’re back?”

“Yes, I’m back, did you spend the night out here?”

“Um…” He rubbed at his eyes, and groaned a little as he tried to sit up. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Were the chickens on purpose?”

“The what?” Tony glanced around, noting that several of their chickens were strutting their way back to the henhouse, and that he had a few bits of feather fluff stuck to his clothes. “I had chickens sleeping on me, didn’t I?”

Pepper sighed, looking torn between exasperation and humor. “Yes, you did.” Shaking her head, she smiled and plucked a feather out of his hair. “That’s what I noticed, actually, I saw them when I drove up but I didn’t realize you were out here until I came over.”

“Nice of them to keep me nice and toasty.” Tony was idly wondering just how he might be able to save this situation gracefully. Maybe he’d be able to come up with something that wouldn’t reveal that he’d been out here all night because the hammock was taking revenge via ankle restraint.

“So is it comfortable?” Pepper gestured to said vengeful rope-y item.

“Once you get in it, yeah. No, wait, be careful—!”

Pepper didn’t so much as wobble as she gracefully settled herself next to him in the hammock, curling up at his side and sending them both gently swaying. There was no tipping, no flipping, not even any threatening creaking.

“I get why you stayed out all night. It’s nice.” She hummed, snuggling up to Tony and sighing softly.

Tony didn’t know if he wanted to laugh, cry, or just resolve to never reveal the truth of his struggle with the damned string demon to anyone, ever.

They watched the sunrise together, just like that, cuddled up in the hammock while the sky painted itself for them. It was beautiful, every shade of pink, orange, and yellow that could possibly exist, chasing away the lavender and dusky blue that lingered in the west. Maybe he'd paint the nursery just like this sunrise, that would be something. And they could put the crib right where the sun would go, because he was nothing if not over-dramatic.

The sun was well up by the time Pepper, who had fallen into a brief doze, sighed and patted Tony’s chest.

“We should probably go in.”

He paused, then decided, _aw, to heck with it_. “Oh, I’m never getting out of this thing again. I almost died getting into it.”

She giggled sleepily. “I hear getting out of it is easier.”

“I know, that’s what I spent all afternoon yesterday doing!”

Pepper pulled herself up and swung her legs over the edge, getting to her feet carefully. “Come on, cowboy.”

“No, really. I can’t.”

She looked at him quizzically, her eyebrows drawn together.

“I’m stuck.” He confessed with a sigh.

“Stuck how?”

Tony wiggled his leg, or tried to, since his ankle was still stuck fast where it was. “Ankle is tangled up somehow.”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How long has it been like that?”

“Since I got in it last night. Honestly, I think that’s probably why I haven’t fallen out yet. The hammock knows.”

“Tony…”

“Hey, it’s not hurting, it’s not cutting off circulation, this is an okay sacrifice to the hammock gods.”

Giggling, Pepper turned around and headed for the house. “I’ll be right back.”

“Getting us provisions? Good idea.”

“Nope. Getting scissors.”

“What?” Tony flailed a little. “No!”

“Yes.”

“You’ll make it mad! And besides, it took me _forever_ to figure this thing out!”

“I know, and now you’ll get to do it with a new one.”

“Pepper!” Tony hollered, absolutely intending to make his protests known, when he felt a sharp twinge.

Pepper, who had stopped at the steps to the house, was looking at him, clearly surprised that he hadn’t continued. “Tony?”

“Um… yeah. Go get those scissors now. Hammock gods are mad.”

**Author's Note:**

> My Rem gets credit for the title to this series, and also for the series entirely because she pointed out how similar this fic is to the kitchen sink fic!


End file.
